


Dress Blues

by frumious_bandersnatch



Series: Supernatural Kink Bingo 2021 [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Balthazar is a slut, Dom!Cas, Impact Play, M/M, Military Kink, Nesting, Sub!Balthazar, Uniform Kink, Wing Kink, Wing Oil, angels are like birds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:29:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28591788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frumious_bandersnatch/pseuds/frumious_bandersnatch
Summary: Balthazar is a slut. Castiel just loves indulging him.
Relationships: Castiel/Balthazar
Series: Supernatural Kink Bingo 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2093877
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Dress Blues

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for Dom!Cas on my bingo card!

Balthazar found that, surprisingly, there were some aspects of heaven he did enjoy. Aside from the literal brainwashing and the clinical sterility and the fact that everyone had a stick up their ass the size of a sodding oak tree- 

The military hierarchy was nice. He’d been a soldier of relative renown- meaning he had been exceptional at following orders. 

Meaning now that he’d discovered sex— he was still very good at following orders. So often eager to please (though he did have moments of brattiness), so often hard in his pants if someone, say, dressed him down in enochian. 

Angels didn’t really have uniforms. When they weren’t wearing vessels, they certainly weren’t wearing clothes. 

Dress blues from the army surplus store seemed to turn him on just fine, though. More than fine, even.

And they didn’t look a stitch out of place on Castiel. Stiff backed posture, riding crop held with ease in his white-gloved hands… Balthazar’s cock was already hard and they’d barely even started. He whimpered softly.

“I’m sorry, Balthazar, what was that?” God, the way he spoke enochian, too. Pronunciation clipped and formal and  _ gruff _ , he’d say he was in Heaven if that was actually something he’d enjoy. The crop was suddenly on his cheek, tilting his head to force him to make eye contact with the other angel. 

“My apologies, sir.” His voice was a mite softer than usual. Much more subdued, though that was to be expected. “It shan’t happen again.”

“I want you to make sure of it.” Castiel nodded. “Back straight, head up- where is your posture? Do they let anyone fight in the garrisons, these days?”

Balthazar straightened, cock throbbing, precum leaking from the tip. Every inch of him was on display, every inch flushed with arousal.

His wings, spread behind him, bristled and puffed up. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Sorry doesn’t change anything. Make it up to me.” Castiel swatted the crop against Balthazar’s back, as if to give another criticism to his posture, leaving a broad, red, welt. 

The angel cried out softly, immediately sinking down. “I don’t- sir, I don’t understand, why…” The innocence was feigned, they both knew exactly what Castiel was going to ask, but it just made it all the more real.

“I thought the answer would come easy to you, since the only jobs you seem to be suited for are gotten lying on your back. Mouth open. Undo my belt, I want you to pull out my cock.”

Balthazar parted his lips and swallowed thickly, throat bobbing as he reached shaking hands up to undo the clasp of Castiel’s belt, to pull his pants open.

He whined softly, immediately leaning forwards to wrap his lips around the tip before he was stopped by a quick smack from the crop to his cheek. 

“So you  _ do _ know what I want. Eager, eager, but not yet.” Castiel chuckled slightly.

Not everything translated well to enochian, so there were transliterations aplenty, but still- Balthazar groaned, made a low purring noise deep in the back of his throat; something beyond human capacity. Something angelic, so rarely heard after the first angelic war, a noise of peace and contentment and adoration, of love.

“Kiss it.”

Open mouthed kisses against the tip, along the length, at the vein on the underside.

“Good. Base to tip, lick. Now.”

Balthazar breathed out a soft ‘yes, sir’ and did just that. Slowly, indulgently, moaning the whole time, then jerking back down for another, and another, 

“Take it in. Suck my cock.”

Balthazar whined and immediately dove in, taking Castiel down to the root, nose buried in neatly trimmed pubic hair. Tongue sliding along the vein on the underside, cheeks hollowed, obscene slurping noise coming from his mouth whenever he drew his head back. 

“So I suppose we’ve finally found what you  _ can _ do, soldier. Don’t think they give out commendations for sucking cook, though.” Castiel grunted, stifling a moan. His own wings spread behind him, shadows dancing across the wall until they manifested.

Twenty five feet, tip to tip, plumage black but shining iridescent, like a raven caught in the sun just so; purple and green and blue dancing across the plumage.

That for the first time in a long while was full. Was restored, could actually pass for belonging to someone important.

Having Balthazar around- just having another angel around, really, both for the presence of their grace and the ability to groom more fully, helped in leaps and bounds. 

Just as he was nearing the edge, just as his cock twitched and Balthazar groaned eagerly in anticipation, Castiel fisted his hand in the other angel’s hair and yanked him off.

Lower lip swollen, spit slicked, face flushed and pupils blown wide with lust, Balthazar blinked up at him, “Sir,” He rasped, brow creased.

“I wonder, soldier,” Castiel murmured, crouching down. Boots still flat on the floor as he did so. “If I pinned you down on that bed and you...took me in, if you’d still be making such wonderful noises.”

“If-“ Balthazar let out a soft breath. “That’s what you’d want, sir, I’d-“

“Is it what you want?”

“Oh, Father, Castiel, bloody- yes.”

Castiel blinked, head cocking owlishly to the side. “I’m sorry?”

Balthazar immediately straightened, near frantic. “Yes, sir, more than anything.”

“Then get on the bed. Face down, ass up, wings spread. Now, soldier.”

Balthazar didn’t even get up. Just gave a quick flap of his wings and appeared on the bed. “When we- may I cum? Sir, please, I’m a- it aches, so close…” He groaned.

“I will be the judge of that. You can hold off until I say so, until I order you to do so.” Castiel said. He walked over with much less haste, still fully dressed save for his open pants. 

He delicately tugged off his gloves and set them neatly on the side table, humming.

“I said wings spread, Balthazar. If you’re not following simple orders like that I’ll simply leave you here for the whole garrison to see.” He said firmly, watched as Balthazar’s wings shot out, still bristling.

“Good,” He praised, reaching in to smooth his fingers over the downy feathers near the bases.

Balthazar keened.

“You should groom these better. It is...unbecoming for a soldier of your caliber to have such messily presented wings.”

Balthazar’s wings were immaculate, but there was a suspension of disbelief in this sort of play. 

So Castiel groomed them. Rubbing at Balthazar’s oil glands until he was sobbing, begging desperately,  _ please please please _ .

Castiel ignored him. Carded oil soaked fingers through bristling feathers, entire room smelling now like rain and sandalwood. 

His cock leaking steadily, pre sliding down his length, puddling on the bed below him. 

“You should be doing this twice a week. Grooming, making sure that everything is in order. Do you understand, now? How thorough one must be?”

Balthazar already groomed thrice a week. But he nodded desperately, gasping out against the pillows. “Yes, yes, yes, sir, I understand.”

Castiel picked up his crop again, silently. “Until you learn to present yourself properly, until you learn what it means to obey, corrective measures will be taken.” The crop whistled through the air to hit Balthazar’s side. Again and again, a new place each time, leaving soon to be welts every time.

It felt like an hour before Castiel finally fucked him, and it was.

Until he slicked his fingers up with Balthazar’s wing oil and spread him open loose and sloppy. 

Used the other angel’s bases as handholds as he finally entered him and fucked in savagely, grunting with each snap of his hips, each slap of skin on skin. 

So long, so fuming long before he spilled himself inside and Balthazar was crying out desperately, garbled curses in enochian and clawing at the bedsheets, squirming wildly. 

“Cum.” Castiel ordered, and Balthazar did, the force of it slamming into him like a freight train. 

Grace glowing under his skin, eyes shining with it, true voice ringing out and shattering every piece of glass in the room as he spilled himself onto the bed and collapsed. 

Castiel had to hold him for a long while after that.

Whispering praise, brushing wings against wings, soft words and soft touches and coos, chirps, soft clicks in the back of his throat. 

And then they were spooning, now both nude, curled in the nest they’d built together out of blankets and pillows and eachother’s clothes, strung with fairy lights and scattered with feathers from the both of them. 

And then they slept, quiet and more peaceful than it had been for a very long time. 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what y’all think, I hope you enjoy :)


End file.
